[Footnote 132: 1 Cor. Ch. 11.]

There is something singular in the manner in which the Quakers deliver themselves when they preach. In the beginning of their discourses, they generally utter their words with slowness; indeed, with a slowness, which sometimes renders their meaning almost unintelligible to persons unaccustomed to such a mode of delivery; for seconds sometimes elapse between the sounding of short sentences or single words, so that the mind cannot always easily carry the first words, and join them to the intermediate, and connect them with the last. As they proceed, they communicate their impressions in a brisker manner; till, at length, getting beyond the quickness of ordinary delivery, they may be said to utter them rapidly. At this time, some of them appear to be much affected, and even agitated by their subject. This method of a very slow and deliberate p.r.o.nunciation at first, and of an accelerated one afterwards, appears to me, as far as I have seen or heard, to be universal: for though undoubtedly some may make less pauses between the introductory words and sentences than others, yet all begin slower than they afterwards proceed.

This singular custom may be probably accounted for in the following manner. The Quakers certainly believe that the spirit of G.o.d furnishes them with impressions on these occasions, but that the description of these is left to themselves Hence a faithful watch must be kept, that these may be delivered to their hearers conformably to what is delivered to them. But if so, it may perhaps be necessary to be more watchful, at the outset, in order to ascertain the dimensions as it were of these impressions, and of their several tendencies and bearings, than afterwards, when such a knowledge of them has been obtained. Or it may be that ministers, who go wholly unprepared to preach, have but a small view of the subject at first. Hence they speak slowly. But as their views are enlarged, their speech becomes quickened, and their feelings become interested with it. These, for any thing I know, may be solutions, upon Quaker principles, of this extraordinary practice.

Against the preaching of the Quakers, an objection is usually made by the world, namely, that their ministers generally deliver their doctrines with an unpleasant tone. But it may be observed that this, which is considered to be a defect, is by no means confined to the Quakers. Persons of other religious denominations, who exert themselves in the ministry, are liable to the same charge. It may be observed also, that the difference between the accent of the Quakers, and that of the speakers of the world, may arise in the difference between art and nature. The person who prepares his lecture for the lecture-room, or his sermon for the pulpit, studies the formation of his sentences, which are to be accompanied by a modulation of the voice. This modulation is artificial, for it is usually taught. The Quakers, on, the other hand, neither prepare their discourses, nor vary their voices purposely, according to the rules of art. The tone which comes out, and which appears disagreeable to those who are not used to it, is nevertheless not unnatural. It is rather the mode of speaking which nature imposes, in any violent exertion of the voice, to save the lungs. Hence persons who have their wares to cry, and this almost every other minute, in the streets, are obliged to adopt a tone. Hence persons with disordered lungs, can sing words with more ease to themselves than they can utter them, with a similar pitch of the voice. Hence Quaker women, when they preach, have generally more of this tone than the Quaker men, for the lungs of the female are generally weaker than those of the other s.e.x.

Against the sermons of the Quakers two objections are usually made; the first of which is, that they contain but little variety of subject.

Among dissenters, it is said, but more particularly in the establishment, that you may hear fifty sermons following each other, where the subject of each is different. Hence a man, ignorant of letters, may collect all his moral and religious duties from the pulpit in the course of the year. But this variety, it is contended, is not to be found in the Quaker church.

That there is less variety in the Quaker sermons than in those of others, there can be no doubt. But such variety is not so necessary to Quakers, on account of their peculiar tenets, and the universality of their education, as to others. For it is believed, as I have explained before, that the spirit of G.o.d, if duly attended to, is a spiritual guide to man, and that it leads him into all truth; that it redeems him; and that it qualifies him therefore for happiness in a future state.

Thus an injunction to attend to the teachings of the spirit, supersedes, in some measure, the necessity of detailing the moral and religious obligations of individuals. And this necessity is still farther superseded by the consideration, that, as all the members of the Quaker society can read, they can collect their Christian duty from the scriptures, independently of their own ministers; or that they can collect those duties for themselves, which others, who are illiterate, are obliged to collect from the church.

The second objection is, that the Quaker discourses have generally less in them, and are occasionally less connected or more confused than those of others.

It must be obvious, when we consider that the Quaker ministers are often persons of but little erudition, and that their principles forbid them to premeditate on these occasions, that we can hardly expect to find the same logical division of the subject, or the same logical provings of given points, as in the sermons of those who spend hours, or even days together, in composing them.

With respect to the apparent barrenness, or the little matter sometimes discoverable in their sermons, they would reply, that G.o.d has not given to every man a similar or equal gift. To some he has given largely; to others in a less degree. Upon some he has bestowed gifts, that may edify the learned; upon others such as may edify the illiterate. Men are not to limit his spirit by their own notions of qualification. Like the wind, it bloweth not only where it listeth, but as it listeth. Thus preaching, which may appear to a scholar as below the ordinary standard, may be more edifying to the simple hearted, than a discourse better delivered, or more eruditely expressed. Thus again, preaching, which may be made up of high sounding words, and of a mechanical manner and an affected tone, and which may, on these accounts, please the man of learning and taste, may be looked upon as dross by a man of moderate abilities or acquirements. And thus it has happened, that many have left the orators of the world and joined the Quaker society, on account of the barrenness of the discourses which they have heard among them.

With respect to Quaker sermons being sometimes less connected or more confused than those of others, they would admit that this might apparently happen; and they would explain it in the following manner.

Their ministers, they would say, when they sit among the congregation, are often given to feel and discern the spiritual states of individuals then present, and sometimes to believe it necessary to describe such states, and to add such advice as these may seem to require. Now these states being frequently different from each other, the description of them, in consequence of an abrupt transition from one to the other, may sometimes occasion an apparent inconsistency in their discourses on such occasions. The Quakers, however, consider all such discourses, or those in which states are described, as among the most efficacious and useful of those delivered.

But whatever may be the merits of the Quaker sermons, there are circ.u.mstances worthy of notice with respect to the Quaker preachers. In the first place, they always deliver their discourses with great seriousness. They are also singularly bold and honest, when they feel it to be their duty, in the censure of the vices of individuals, whatever may be the riches they enjoy. They are reported also from unquestionable authority, to have extraordinary skill in discerning the internal condition of those who attend their ministry, so that many, feeling the advice to be addressed to themselves, have resolved upon their amendment in the several cases to which their preaching seemed to have been applied.

As I am speaking of the subject of ministers, I will answer one or two questions, which I have often heard asked concerning it.

The first of these is, do the Quakers believe that their ministers are uniformly moved, when they preach, by the spirit of G.o.d?

I answer--the Quakers believe they may be so moved, and that they ought to be so moved. They believe also that they are often so moved. But they believe again, that except their ministers are peculiarly cautious, and keep particularly on their watch, they may mistake their own imaginations for the agency of this spirit. And upon this latter belief it is, in part, that the office of elders is founded, as before described.

The second is, as there are no defined boundaries between the reason of man and the revelation of G.o.d, how do the Quakers know that they are favoured at any particular time, either when they preach or when they do not preach, with the visitation of this spirit, or that it is, at any particular time, resident within them?

Richard Claridge, a learned and pious clergyman of the Church of England in the last century, but who gave up his benefices and joined the society of the Quakers, has said a few words in his Tractatus Hierographicus, upon this subject, a part of which I shall transcribe as an answer to this latter question.

"Men, says he, may certainly know, that they do believe on the Son of G.o.d, with that faith that is unfeigned, and by which the heart is purified: for this faith is evidential and a.s.suring, and consequently the knowledge of it is certain. Now they, who certainly know that they have this knowledge, may be certain also of the spirit of Christ dwelling in them; for [133] 'he that _believeth_ _on the Son of G.o.d, hath the witness in himself;'_ and this witness is the spirit; for it is [134] 'the spirit that beareth witness,' of whose testimony they may be as certain, as of that faith the spirit beareth witness to."

[Footnote 133: 1 John 5.10.]

[Footnote 134:1 John 5. 6.]

Again--"They may certainly know that they love the Lord above all, and their neighbour as themselves. For the command implies not only a possibility of knowing it in general, but also of such a knowledge as respects their own immediate concernment therein, and personal benefit arising from a sense of their conformity and obedience thereunto. And seeing they may certainly know this, they may also as certainly know, that the spirit of Christ dwelleth in them;[135] for 'G.o.d is love, and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in G.o.d, and G.o.d in him.' And [136] 'if we love one another, G.o.d dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.'" In the same manner he goes on to enumerate many other marks from texts of scripture, by which he conceives this question may be determined[137].

[Footnote 135:1 John 4. 16.]

[Footnote 136:1 John 4. 12.]

[Footnote 137: The Quakers conceive it to be no more difficult for them to distinguish the motions of the Holy Spirit, than for those of the church of England, who are candidates for holy orders. Every such candidate is asked, "Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and ministration?" The answer is, "I trust so."]

I shall conclude this chapter on the subject of the Quaker preaching, by an extract from Francis Lambert of Avignon, whose book was published in the year 1516, long before the society of the Quakers took its rise in the world. "Beware, says he, that thou determine not precisely to speak what before thou hast meditated, whatsoever it be; for though it be lawful to determine the text which thou art to expound, yet not at all the interpretation; lest, if thou doest so, thou takest from the Holy Spirit that which is his, namely, to direct thy speech that thou mayest preach in the name of the Lord, void of all learning, meditation, and experience; and as if thou hadst studied nothing at all, committing thy heart, thy tongue, and thyself, wholly unto his spirit; and trusting nothing to thy former studying or meditation, but saying to thyself in great confidence of the divine promise, the Lord will give a word with much power unto those that preach the Gospel."

SECT. II.

_But besides oral or vocal, there is silent worship among the Quakers--Many meetings where not a word is said, and yet worship is considered to have begun, and to be proceeding--Worship not necessarily connected with words--This the opinion of other pious men besides Quakers--Of Howe--Hales--Gell--Smaldridge, bishop of Bristol--Monro --Advantages which the Quakers attach to their silent worship._

I have hitherto confined myself to those meetings of the Quakers, where the minister is said to have received impressions from the Spirit of G.o.d, with a desire of expressing them, and where, if he expresses them, he ought to deliver them to the congregation as the pictures of his will; and this, as accurately as the mirror represents the object that is set before it. There are times, however, as I mentioned in the last section, when either no impressions may be said to be felt, or, if any are felt, there is no concomitant impulse to utter them. In this case no person attempts to speak: for to speak or to pray, where the heart feels no impulse to do it, would be, in the opinion of the Quakers, to mock G.o.d, and not to worship him in spirit and in truth. They sit therefore in silence, and worship in silence; and they not only remain silent the whole time of their meetings, but many meetings take place, and these sometimes in succession, when not a word is uttered.

Michael de Molinos, who was chief of the sect of the Quietists, and whose "Spiritual Guide" was printed at Venice in 1685, speaks thus: "There are three kinds of silence; the first is of words, the second of desires, and the third of thoughts. The first is perfect; the second is more perfect; and the third is most perfect. In the first, that is, of words, virtue is acquired. In the second, namely, of desires, quietness is attained. In the third, of thoughts, internal recollection is gained.

By not speaking, not desiring, and not thinking, one arrives at the true and perfect mystical silence, where G.o.d speaks with the soul, communicates himself to it, and in the abyss of its own depth, teaches it the most perfect and exalted wisdom."

Many people of other religious societies, if they were to visit the meetings of the Quakers while under their silent worship, would be apt to consider the congregation as little better than stocks or stones, or at any rate as dest.i.tute of that life and animation which const.i.tute the essence of religion. They would have no idea that a people were worshipping G.o.d, whom they observed to deliver nothing from their lips.

It does not follow, however, because nothing is said, that G.o.d is not worshipped. The Quakers, on the other hand, contend, that these silent meetings form the sublimest part of their worship. The soul, they say, can have intercourse with G.o.d. It can feel refreshment, joy, and comfort, in him. It can praise and adore him; and all this, without the intervention of a word.

This power of the soul is owing to its const.i.tution or nature. "It follows, says the learned Howe, in his 'Living Temple,' that having formed this his more excellent creature according to his own more express likeness; stampt it with the more glorious characters of his living image; given it a nature suitable to his own, and thereby made it capable of rational and intelligent converse with him, he hath it even in his power to maintain a continual converse with this creature, by agreeable communications, by letting in upon it the vital beams and influences of his own light and love, and receiving back the return of its grateful acknowledgments and praises: wherein it is manifest he should do no greater thing than he hath done. For who sees not that it is a matter of no greater difficulty to converse with, than to make a reasonable creature? Or who would not be ashamed to deny, that he who hath been the only author of the soul of man, and of the excellent powers and faculties belonging to it, can more easily sustain that which he hath made, and converse with his creature suitably to the way, wherein he hath made it capable of his converse?"

That worship may exist without the intervention of words, on account of this const.i.tution of the soul, is a sentiment which has been espoused by many pious persons who were not Quakers. Thus, the ever memorable John Hales, in his Golden Remains, expresses himself: "Nay, one thing I know more, that the prayer which is the most forcible, transcends, and far exceeds, all power of words. For St. Paul, speaking unto us of the most effectual kind of prayer, calls it sighs and groans, that cannot be expressed. Nothing cries so loud in the ears of G.o.d, as the sighing of a contrite and earnest heart."

"It requires not the voice, but the mind; not the stretching of the hands, but the intention of the heart; not any outward shape or carriage of the body, but the inward behaviour of the understanding. How then can it slacken your worldly business and occasions, to mix them with sighs and groans, which are the most effectual prayer?"

Dr. Gell, before quoted, says--"Words conceived only in an earthly mind, and uttered out of the memory by man's voice, which make a noise in the ears of flesh and blood, are not, nor can be accounted a prayer, before our father which is in Heaven."

Dr. Smaldridge, bishop of Bristol, has the following expressions in his sermons: "Prayer doth not consist either in the bending of our knees, or the service of our lips, or the lifting up of our hands or eyes to heaven, but in the elevation of our souls towards G.o.d. These outward expressions of our inward thoughts are necessary in our public, and often expedient in our private devotions; but they do not make up the essence of prayer, which may truly and acceptably be performed, where these are wanting."

And he says afterwards, in other parts of his work--"Devotion of mind is itself a silent prayer, which wants not to be clothed in words, that G.o.d may better know our desires. He regards not the service of our lips, but the inward disposition of our hearts."

Monro, before quoted, speaks to the same effect, in his Just Measures of the Pious Inst.i.tutions of Youth. "The breathings of a recollected soul are not noise or clamour. The language in which devotion loves to vent itself, is that of the inward man, which is secret and silent, but yet G.o.d hears it, and makes gracious returns unto it. Sometimes the pious ardours and sensations of good souls are such as they cannot clothe with words. They feel what they cannot express. I would not, however, be thought to insinuate, that the voice and words are not to be used at all. It is certain that public and common devotions cannot be performed without them; and that even in private, they are not only very profitable, but sometimes necessary. What I here aim at is, that the youth should be made sensible, that words are not otherwise valuable than as they are images and copies of what pa.s.ses in the hidden man of the heart; especially considering that a great many, who appear very angelical in their devotions, if we take our measures of them from their voice and tone, do soon, after these intervals of seeming seriousness are over, return with the dog to the vomit, and give palpable evidences of their earthliness and sensuality; their pa.s.sion and their pride."

Again--"I am persuaded, says he, that it would be vastly advantageous for the youth, if care were taken to train them up to this method of prayer; that is, if they were taught frequently to place themselves in the divine presence, and there silently to adore their Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. For hereby they would become habitually recollected. Devotion would be their element; and they would know, by experience, what our blessed Savour and his great Apostle meant, when they enjoin us to pray without ceasing. It was, I suppose, by some such method of devotion as I am now speaking of, that Enoch walked with G.o.d; that Moses saw him that is invisible; that the royal Psalmist set the Lord always before him; and that our Lord Jesus himself continued whole nights in prayer to G.o.d. No man, I believe, will imagine that his prayer, during all the s.p.a.ce in which it is said to have continued, was altogether vocal. When he was in his agony in the garden, he used but a few words. His vocal prayer then consisted only of one pet.i.tion, and an act of pure resignation thrice repeated. But I hope all will allow, that his devotion lasted longer than while he was employed in the uttering a few sentences."

These meetings then, which are usually denominated silent, and in which, though not a word be spoken, it appears from the testimony of others that G.o.d may be truly worshipped, the Quakers consider as an important and sublime part of their church service, and as possessing advantages which are not to be found in the worship which proceeds solely through the medium of the mouth.

For in the first place it must be obvious that, in these silent meetings, men cannot become chargeable before G.o.d, either with hypocrisy or falsehood, by pretending to worship him with their lips, when their affections are far from him, or by uttering a language that is inconsistent with the feelings of the heart.

It must be obvious, again, that every man's devotion, in these silent meetings, is made, as it ought to be, to depend upon himself; for no man can work out the salvation of another for him. A man does not depend at these times on the words of a minister, or of any other person present; but his own soul, worked upon by the divine influence, pleads in silence with the Almighty its own cause. And thus, by extending this idea to the congregation at large, we shall find a number of individuals offering up at the same time their own several confessions; pouring out their own several pet.i.tions; giving their own thanks severally, or praising and adoring; all of them in different languages, adapted to their several conditions, and yet not interrupting one another.

Nor is it the least recommendation of this worship, in the opinion of the Quakers, that, being thus wholly spiritual, it is out of the power of the natural man to obstruct it. No man can break the chains that thus binds the spirit of man to the spirit of G.o.d; for this chain, which is spiritual, is invisible. But this is not the case, the Quakers say, with any oral worship. "For how, says Barclay, alluding to his own times, can the Papists say their ma.s.s, if there be any there to disturb and interrupt them? Do but take away the ma.s.s-book, the chalice, the host, or the priest's garments; yea, do but spill the water, or the wine, or blow out the candles, (a thing quickly to be done,) and the whole business is marred, and no sacrifice can be offered. Take from the Lutherans and Episcopalians their liturgy or common prayer-book, and no service can be said. Remove from the Calvinists, Arminians, Socinians, Independents, or Anabaptists, the pulpit, the bible, and the hourgla.s.s, or make but such a noise as the voice of the preacher cannot be heard, or disturb him but so before he come, or strip him of his bible or his books, and he must be dumb: for they all think it an heresy to wait to speak, as the spirit of G.o.d giveth utterance; and thus easily their whole worship may be marred."

SECT. III.

_Quakers reject every thing formal, ostentatious, and spiritless, from their worship--Ground on which their Meeting-houses stand, not consecrated--The latter plain--Women sit apart from the men--No Pews--nor priest's garments--nor psalmody--No one day thought more holy than another--But as public worship is necessary, days have been fixed upon for that purpose._

Jesus Christ, as he was sitting at Jacob's well, and talking with the woman of Samaria, made use of the following, among other expressions, in his discourse: "Woman, believe me, the hour cometh when ye shall neither, in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father.

But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth."

These expressions the Quakers generally render thus: I tell you that a new dispensation is at hand. Men will no longer worship at Jerusalem more acceptably than in any other place. Neither will it be expected of them, that they shall worship in temples, like the temple there. Neither the glory, nor the ornaments of gold and silver and precious stones, nor the splendid garments of the High Priest, will be any parts of the new worship that is approaching. All ceremonies will be done away, and men's religion will be reduced simply to the worshipping of G.o.d in spirit and in truth. In short, the Quakers believe, that, when Jesus came, he ended the temple, its ornaments, its music, its Levitical priesthood, its t.i.thes, its new moons, and sabbaths, and the various ceremonial ordinances that had been engrafted into the religion of the Jews.